The Andalite Drabbles
by Clockwork-Atom
Summary: A series of drabbles of our favorite race, the fluffy furry blue creatures with four eyes, a scorpion tail, and speak with telepathy. Genres range from humor to dramatic, to adventure, to down right sinister. Part Eleven: Rebirth
1. Author's Note

**The Andalite Drabbles**

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AN:

Oh bah-jeezus, this gets its own chapter. I mearly put this here so that, if my dopple ganger happens upon this, s/he'll get all the details, and not skip over important things that will make things run smoother. (I tend to do this now with my stories because I like being super organized, and like starting the first chapter off with the chapter and not the AN.) If you're all impatient and want to get to the good stuff, the third paragraph down, starting with 'At the beg...' will explain the most important things. If not, I will continue introducing this thing because I like hearing myself talk (or type).

*taps mike a couple of times*

This is a series of drabbles that basically focus around... Well, our favorite race, the fluffy furry blue creatures with four eyes, a scorpion tail, and speak with telepathy. The Arrogant, yet Adorable: Andalites. These don't really have a word count, but you could estimate that they range from about three hundred words, to two thousand, in first or third person (though I do prefer third, but sometimes a scene does call for a first here and there.) Genres range from humor to dramatic, to adventure, to down right sinister; and the characters range from the old to the young, to warrior, to just ordinary civilians.

At the beginning of each drabble contains the drabble name in bold, and right next to it a certain amount of stars next to it: One means past, Two means present, and Three means future. By present, I mean when the Animorphs are fighting, and future I mean post yeerk war. Past... Well before the Animorphs. And lastly, right below all of that, is a list of all the characters included. At the bottom might be an AN that may explain where I got it, but mostly I will use it to reply to reviews from the last drabble.

I will just keep adding on to the TAD until I either get bored, or run out of ideas (though the latter is a rarity, I tend to accidently on purposely daydream about seventy percent of my waking life. Ooops.) Two of these were posted from my old account (edited of course), I just decided to throw them in for sentimentality's sake. None of them are connected to each other (unless indicated), and me playing with plot ideas.

And now for the manditory: Animorphs is copyright KA Applegate. All species, worlds, and the majority of characters are of her creation and insanity. I just barrow them because I enjoy writing so much.

And lastly (if you are still reading, but I think you know this already even if you haven't, because EVERY author loves asking this), reviews are muchly appriciated. Constructive critisism is always welcomed here, because I am a writer that is always looking to improve.

O God this makes me look pretentious and self absorbed... I think I'll end this AN so I don't end up crying about how I've become my worst nightmare...

*Lights dim, and the velvety red curtains begin to pull back, revealing a dark screen. It blinks white, a number five in bold black courier new font begins to tick off to four, then three, two, one. Then the screen dawns a fancy letter head in the center: Now Here is Your Feature Presentation.*


	2. Golden Morning

**Gold Morning** **

Characters: Aximili

The first morning that I woke up on the surface of the Earth, I woke-up thinking that I was on my home world. The single sun was just rising at that point, coloring the sky gold and red-the exact colors of my sky during high noon. I felt the relief of awakening from a nightmare: My brother was still alive, and that I wasn't trapped on some alien planet, alone.

But as my eye stalks observed my surroundings, they told me that what I felt wans't at all true: Everything was green, and the sky right above me, peaking through the clouds, was pale blue in colors. I wasn't Home. The wall of homesickness hit me twice as hard than when I was in the dome. Even though I was surrounded by the Earth's ocean, I was safe in the dome, the one last connection to me and my people.

But it did give me a faint ray of hope. Every morning from then on, I got up just early enough to watch the sunrise, hoping that the sky would again look just like Home. For those few seconds I could lie to myself, and pretend like everything was the way it was before.

_From the Journal of Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill_


	3. A Temporary Diversion

**A Temporary Diversion ***

Characters: Sofor, Jahar, her son

The main spaceport was bustling on the Andalite homeworld. It floated in the lower atmosphere just above the clouds, complete with atomospheric moniters, keeping the pressure and the temperature at a barible level. Even though it took a transport to get to the station, normally discouraging civilian hoof traffic, it was crowded with excited, nervous, and scared people. They were waiting to see if their loved ones had truly come home.

The war had been so bloody. It was so swift a killer now, even though it had lasted so short of a time. The electorate had been wrong: it was not going to be a short and easy squirmish with their slug parasitic enemies.

Jahar was amongst them, waiting for her own husband. However she, like the rest of the public, knew exactly where he was, which ship, and exactly what time he was coming. That was because he was coming home, not as a decorated war hero, but as a disgrace. He, along with the rest of his unit, were awaiting a trial when he alone had already been court marshelled. Most didn't know what he did, only speculated, and that was worse in some ways. But Jahar knew exactly what he had done.

Her young son pulled her out of her reverie, fidgeting, restless, and intimidated of the crowd around him. His arms were slack around her lower torso and front legs, eye stalks twisting and turning rapidly observing everything around him. Dispite being shy, it was a treat for her young son, most of his time was normally spent around the familial scoop, and the surrounding feilds and woods. On this day he had been to one of the only remaining cities on the planet, as well as seen a proformance by a new up incoming dance-the term had been estreen-while he would see his father at the end of the day.

{Keep still Malderan,} she fussed, even though he mirrored what she was feeling. He silently tried to obey his mother, though his hands continuously signed the word father, father to her.  
One of the smaller cruisers finally docked, warriors flooding out, carrying small sacks that carried personal items; the civilians rushed foward. Jahar kept her ground: it wasn't the ship. Most were just warriors, a few were low ranking princes, but they had come home safe and sound, save for a few battle burns here and there. Another ship docked, a similar model, more warriors, home for a short leave, a temporary retreat. Cruisers passed by, unloaded, then flew off to the floating space station in orbit for maintenence.

Soon, she began to notice some of the higher ranked warriors stepping off onto the space port, some of them familiar comrads of her husband. Many of them apeared to be famous pilots and captains, each carrying their own sacks as well. The station was more crowded than ever, even though some of the families began to filter out, taking a transport back to the surface.

{Ah, Jahar, it is nice to see you again,} said an older warrior. Like so many of the others, he was covered in battle scars, including a particularly nasty one below his eye. And yet, he seemed as energetic as ever.

{Sofor, it is nice to see you as well,} smiled Jahar. She stepped forward to meet him. Her son followed behind her warrily, his large eyes focusing on the strange warrior that stood in front of him. Malderan began to tug at her short fur.

{My your son has has grown a bit-he might get his height from his mother's side!} he snapped his head back as he laughed. Jahar merely shook her eye stalks at his terrible joke. The very young andalite continued to tug gently at her fur, until she noticed him, her eye stalks meeting all four of his own. He signaled for permission to speak as was customary, looking between her and Sofor after a few seconds of silence.

{You shouldn't have to be so traditional around me,} the old warrior said gently to both of them. {I would like to think of myself as a very close friend to you.}

{Go on Malderan,} urged the young mother, pushing him forward gently with one of her hooves.

{Do you know father? Are you great like him?} the young child asked, eyes wide.

Sofor grinned at him widely. {Why of course I know your father. I fought many great battles with him!}

{Are you on trial as well?} asked Jahar privately while he answered the youth.

The old warrior turned one eye stalk over towards her, and even though the grin in his eyes remained, his stature stiffened. {No, not anymore. The only one who is on trial now, is Alloran. The electorate is going to pin it all on him, and let the rest of us go free.} He turned the eye stalk away to look at her son, unwilling to watch the hopeless rage rise up in Jahar at the news.

{Why yes,} Sofor replied easily to her young son, {He's seen many, many aliens-he's been all over the place!} He raised his arms wide, indicating all the space that Alloran had been to as an example.

{Where did you get your scar?} asked Malderan, continuing his interrogation. A delicated finger pointed to his own eye.

Sofor didn't even skip a beat, pointing to the scar below his eye. {This one? You know how your mother has to do the night ritual every night before you go to sleep in your scoop? Well one night, my mother forgot!} He bent down towards the young child so that they were looking at each other face to face, his face completely serious. {And out snapped a wicked spirit! He tried to drag me off into an alternate demension, but father caught me-though sadly, not before the spirit reached out once more and cut my face! And here, it left a scar!}

Just as Malderan began to pout, Jahar crossed her arms over her chest, closing her main eyes in mock irritation. {You are incouragable! Now I am going to have to deal with him having nightmares for the next few days!}

Old Sofor began to roar with laughter, and the young child looked between the two, confused at why they were laughing at such a terrible, serious matter. Sofor bid them both farewell after a few more words with the young mother, before returning to his own family who waited for him at their own transport. Another wave of laughter shook his body when he stood with them. Jahar watched him leave, and turned to look at the main platform as soon as his door closed, her worries returning as she waited for Alloran.


	4. Captured

**Captured***

Characters: Alloran

Alloran tried to escape the first few times when Esplin 9466 prime left his body to absorb the kandrona rays, still in denial. He was under heavy restraint, though at first the yeerks didn't have the equipment to restrain him so far as to keep him alive as well as keeping him still enough to be reinfested.

Esplin instructed his warriors, all Hork-Bajir of great height and strength, what they were supposed to do as he left the War Prince's mind: they all looked at each other, though they were too terrified to mention how hair-brained the idea was, and too fascinated at the same time as they watched the Sub Visser swaggering around in his new body. None of them wanted to lose an arm, or something worse while keeping guard.

Still Esplin left his body without more to say, save for the unspoken threat of a long and painful death if something went wrong. They waited as he slowly slithered out of the elf-shaped ear, strangely a nonthreatening apendage compared to the other end of his body. The Dracon Beams shook in nervous talons, all on stun, but they knew this andalite warrior well enough: Some of them would be dead before the evening was out.

Alloran struggled to gain control of his body as soon as possible, pulling out any morphs that would help his escape, while the parasite left seeing the echoes of his thoughts as he disconnected. He knew that the slug was nervous and scared for the rest of them, only for different reasons.

As if on instinct-FWAAP!

His tale struck down the first guard, an arm, then slashing across the poor controller's chest before any of them could blink. The creature toppled down, gore blossoming across the deck, while Alloran thought of how he was going to kill the aristh that let him be taken.

Everyone rushed forward, though they kept their blades carefully away from the unwilling host; it was too crowded to gain a good shot of the andalite, Dracon beams flashing upwards as they tried to avoid each other. This Alloran took advantage of, slashing repeatedly without any pause. Wild screams echoed in the room, as Esplin 9466 swam around in the tiny pool in the corner, deaf to all the pandimonium around him.

He prided himself in that moment, knowing all of their weaknesses, as well as the fact that for once, they couldn't kill him, let alone injure him, no matter how much they hated him or wanted to.

Fwap! Fwap! Fwap!

Taking in a couple of deep breaths, he took the chance as the front warriors reeled backwards and concentrated on his attack morph. He tail slowed visibly enough from the new form taking shape, that the enemy took advantage. Three Hork-Bajir grabbed at his week arms as the poison cones along his body took shape. NOOOO! he screamed to himself: his tail began to shrivel away. He found that one of the slugs had taken a slash at him; he was bleeding, though nothing of consequence. He kept trying for force the morph to form faster, knowing that he was becoming defenseless because of his disappearing tail.

Before he could scream at the shear hopelessness of it all, everything went black.

The next moment he was conscience again, Esplin had returned, stretching his muscles from spine to the tip of his tail, and opening his mind up to see what he had missed. It was effortless how the yeerk moved Alloran away. A mere thought was all that it took.

As the Sub Visser saw all that he had missed, he began laughing in the mind that he now owned as Alloran stood watching in the back. The yeerk struck down the controller who had tainted his new body: a small side scratch no longer than four inches. Esplin began to laugh again as he observed the gore strewn floor, the fresh body still twitching; how clumsy their host bodies were. How clumsy and hopeless Alloran's attempt at escape had been.

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**A/N** : Thanks for the review alikat522! ^_^ Yeah I've got this weird image of their society, and hopefully it'll develop more as I write! I also want to do one or two more of Jahar, so hopefully in the near future she'll pop up.


	5. Touchy Touchy

**Touchy Touchy** **

Characters: Aloth

Other Notes: Gruesome. You've been warned.

{Now now now,} the blue man said soothingly as he stood over the other injured Andalite. He stroked the side of the fallen warrior's face. The creature trembled as sweat trickled down his face, his neck, his collar bone. It was cool in the room, the sweat coming from fear. From Agony.

Off to the corner of the small cramped medic unit was Aloth's SS64-17, the recently upgraded sniper issue shredder. Beautifully sculpted especially for the nonexistent assassination unit. Right next to him was a scanner showing the vitals of the fallen warrior, his blood pressure, brain activity, lung capacity, monitors from both hearts. One of them was flat-lined.

Aloth the assassin was doing some extra side work.

The black-ops Andalite currently held the still warm, still pulsing organ in his many-fingered hand. Quickly the average-looking, almost handsome Andalite turned around, keeping a single eye-stalk on the restrained warrior, while he placed the heart in an empty stasis cooler. The eye-stalk was more by habit than anything else because the warrior was half-living at this point and too numbed at what was happening to him. By now he realized that he couldn't escape.

This was when the whole process normally got easier for Aloth.

The assassin set to work, digging for other organs that needed immediate harvesting. The screams pierced some part of the Andalite's soul that had been easily weakened by greed.

It was a primitive sound in his mind, Aloth decided, as the images and emotions telepathically played in his mind. Slowly, as he worked, the images and everything else became disjointed as the agony the warrior was most likely in took away any coherent thought. Though everything else rolled around chaotically, the screams remained, and Aloth easily tuned them out as he recited the ritual of death.

The final heart began to flat line, and the assassin hurried to get the remaining organ out. The scanners compensated, and the warrior's head rolled. Aloth ordered the computer to expand the parameters, and the head stopped flopping around, held into place by the gravity restraints. He worked the long syringe into the base of the neck, paralyzing the specimen for good. The brain scans began to light up again, all areas marked in red this time. He used this to map out what he needed.

Slowly, he disconnected the functions just as the last words spilled out from his mind of the ritual. One-by-one, the brain map darkened, until the Andalite body became something less than a shell to Aloth the Assassin. Fortunately the training in the units applied to more than one expertise.

He finally sighed, and cleaned his hands. Aloth then commanded the ship to take off from the surface of the war-beaten planet, and notified the captain that he was on his way. There he would tell the war-prince that though the mission was successful, no one in his unit had survived.

When he reached the upper atmosphere, he realized that he had forgotten something. He pushed a button, and ejected the forgotten, emptied shell.

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**AN:** Hey guys, sorry for the dark one, I'll try and post more light hearted ones after this... I recently reread Animorphs #38 actually at the suggestion of Alexionine, and had intended to do some drabbles on another character (though those are in the works...) I would like to write at least one more on Aloth.

I actually do intend to put a _few_ original characters in, though they'll be spread out wide enough so one can skip them if they want to. Though if and when I do add them, they'll probably be used to expand on Andalites and their society. I'd like to think I'm much better than a creator of a Mary Sue, though my ego might be too big for my body for all I know, lol. I am also wondering which parts sound _human_. My worst nightmare is to make somebody OOC, my only intent is to expand on characters, simply because it's fun. I chose to write most of these in First Person because of that, actually because the narrator _is_ human and the charas are not.

Thank you for your reviews, Alexionine, HotPinkCoffee, and Caralin942! Oh yeah, and thanks to those of you that also added my story to watch (I don't remember who did because this site doesn't have a pretty list like the reviews do, lmao)!


	6. Big Idols

**Big Idols** *

Characters: Aximili, Elfangor, Forlay, Noorlin

Aximili was very small, though despite his lacking in height (because of such a young age), his imagination was quite large. The nets didn't help either, nor his worried and excited parents who watched them obsessively. His mother was more apparent, she appeared almost frail as her many fingered hands grasped her chest, watching. Noorlin was less obvious, almost fooling the andalite child, but his eye stalks quivered every so often, and he seemed more agitated than normal.

The first telecommunication happened only a few weeks ago.

{It is as if he came back from the dead,} whispered his mother. His father placed a gentle, calming hand at the base of her torso.

His mother and father would talk to him every so often, Aximili standing shyly behind them as he watched his brother talk. Before then, his parents had never spoken about his brother that often because they had thought he was dead. Now information about him come in all the time to their home from the andalite military, and even from the electorate.

Images of ancient Gods formed in the little andalite's mind: his brother defied death, fought back evil. A strong and brave warrior. His parents watched their eldest son from the holos, and Aximili watched their eyes glazed over. His older brother was perfect.

As soon as word got out that Elfangor was alive, appearing in the middle of a battle that was thought to be long lost, he was put immediately on leave. After the same battle he was promoted from nearly losing his life again in the face of the Yeerks and he became an instant hero to the people. One of many, but one of the very few who were still alive. Aximili, had he listened closely to his parents, would have been shocked to hear, that they didn't truly care if he came back a hero or not—their son was alive.

Even though he was sent a few days after the battle, it would take a few weeks to get home. The family back on the home world awaited his arrival nervously and eagerly. The child andalite worried that he would find out that he didn't have a brother, or one that wasn't a god. His parents worried that something would happen to the transport, and they would yet again hear the news that their son was lost.

But he came, after the days dragged slowly by. Between those days, Aximili's parents worked slowly, making sure that they kept up with the work load despite the chaos going on around their homelands. His father, though getting older, worked to make more space in their scoop so it could hold the family of four instead of three. The andalite youth spent most of his time with their Garibah tree, talking to it for hours about how he felt, though remained quiet around the presence of his parents unless directly spoken to.

Un-traditionally, instead of taking a short range transport to the sky port to meet him, Elfangor came directly to the home lands. Aximili saw the bright yellow transport from a distance, moving closer and closer to the scoop. The young andalite ran to catch up with the small hover craft, seeing three warriors aboard it, tails raised high. He strained all four eyes to see which one could be his brother, but they were still too far. His parents called to him, and he rushed on his four stubby legs even though his hearts begged him to slow down.

_Brother, brother, brother,_ he whispered to himself, his hands gesturing distractedly as he breezed passed the tall grass, just outside of their lands. The transport moved swiftly, easily making it to the scoop where his parents were. The young male cried out in frustration and he pushed his tiny hooves faster, the scoop coming into view. He could now make out the shine on the warriors' fur glistening in the sun.

One of them stepped out, his fur metallic and he stood heroically. _That has to be him!_ thought Aximili as he continued running. The transport left, and he saw his brother moving into the ritual of honor and welcome to his parents. The older brother's stalk eyes scanned the area around him, and Aximili hoped that he was looking for him—but did he even know that he existed?

A chill ran down his spine—what if he didn't know who he was? What if Elfangor didn't know that he had a younger brother?

The andalite youth made a sharp turn, so that instead of reaching his brother first, he would be able to stay behind his parents. Despite the great golden aura that his brother was casting, Aximili was still shy and nervous: his parents would be safe and he knew them, a shield against the unknown no matter how awesome it was.

_Fifty feet! Forty! Thirty!_

{Yaaaaaaaaahhhh!} he screamed. His front hoof caught onto a root, sending him flying before he had the time to register it. The rest of his body continued to move at the speed he had been running, and he was sent tumbling. As he rolled, he saw the hooves belonging to his parents getting closer and closer, and he struggled to slow himself to a stop with his tail and useless hands.

He stopped in a heap between Noorlin and Forlay as they looked at him, at first stunned, but then more amused than anything else. Aximili quickly righted himself, just before the embarrassment registered. His main eyes widened, as his stalk eyes drooped as his audience of three watched him. He waited to be admonished and for the permission to look up, but no one said anything. Slowly, his stalk eyes spied a long glance at his older brother, who loomed in front of him, the sun glowing above him as if he controlled the sun with his power.

Elfangor slowly stepped forward, and it was as if he walked on air as he moved easily towards the young andalite. Aximili watched him very carefully, how he placed his hoof on the ground, how he carried his tail. How he held the posture in the rest of his body. He was a hero from one of those adventure holovids. A hero right out of myth. He was taller than his father, his fur metallic blue, eyes glowing. Elfangor was smiling the andalite child realized.

And laughing at him.

Aximili moved his upper body backwards from humiliation and irritation, believing himself to be more dignified than that. His mother scooted him forwards with her tail, and unwillingly he was forced to step closer to the warrior. His idol.

But the young male forgot all of his emotions, as well as his breath, as his older brother fell to his knees. But not from losing his balance. Aximili watched him, stunned. Warrior Elfangor wrapped his strong, big arms around him.

{My brother,} he said, still chuckling softly in the youth's mind.

He noticed me! the awestruck andalite youth thought, even though he did not understand the strange gesture. Aximili very much didn't mind it nonetheless.

Elfangor finally stood after a few moments, facing his parents once more, while his younger brother stared into nothing. Aximili suddenly realized that Elfangor hardly knew his own fame-heroes do not notice such lowly andalites such as himself! His idol stepped forward towards his parents, as the couple stared at him in disbelief. Elfangor spread his arms, but still they watched him, confusion evident on their faces.

Realizing that he was truly home, he slowly lowered his arms, though his eye stalks drooped just slightly. Aximili saw it and was confused. What was going on? Was everything all right? Finally his father stepped forward, and they were able to continue the ritual of greeting, as the young andalite still watched his older brother with awe.

It was the first and last time his idol would embrace the youth like that.

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**AN:**

Thanks for all of the Aloth reviews, Hotpinkcoffee, Caralin942, and Alikat522! I try not to be too gruesome for anything that I write because I find it just tacky-plus the imagination of the reader is much more brilliant than the writer's, lol. I kind of imagined Aloth having a sort of duelistic personality, and that's just one side of it.

Totally write it Alikat! I'll list it up on here, when you do! _ I kind of want to list some of my favorite Andalite fics that I like or was influenced by on the drabbles in the AN's, but I don't know if that's allowed. I might message the writer's and pray that they do reply. _Or even a soundtrack here and there 'cause I'm lame and mooshy. Yes. Mooooooshy.

Green armadillo, thanks for your review! And Gold Morning was an old snippet of mine the old account, so you are right. So it is a lot like it, because it's exactly like it, save for some edits. I couldn't bare to delete the account and the stories (because people had favorited a good number of them), but I wanted a new name, so I just packed up and moved. I always got quite bummed on places like Deviantart as well as when artists deleted their accounts or stories, so I make an aim not to do that despite my wishy washy emotions and outside flaming that some artists seem to get. lmao. Some of them are_ terrible_ or quite _embarressing_!

**PS:** I did a fanart, for this particular snippet, just cause I can. I haven't yet scanned it, but look out for it on (www . nivaeus . deviantart . com)


	7. Brainiac

**Brainiac** **

Characters: Estrid

Sol Alpha rose, filling the alien sky with pinks and oranges, the assorted grasses painted pastels along the surface of the planet. Sol Beta began to peak out frm the behind the dominant sun soon afterward, ringing out of the mid morning over the sprawling university, students filtering around the building complex.

Hover transports came and went by what was assumed to be the front as the morning passed, Andalites coming and going. Most carried small cases strapped across their chests, samples imported from all over the sector, or simply computers carrying reports. Males and females trekked into solar powered university, though it was mostly dominated by males, the occasional female spotted from inside.

They were all fully grown and delusional adults, the university an almost idealist utopia. The propagandists spread throughout the home world that they could be the ones to decide the future of the war, and even some of the best and persuasive holos were posted inside the main building. The professors at the University of Advanced Scientific Theory could be spotted easily by their tanning, aged fur and an almost wandering gait-until they met with something particularly amusing.

{What?} blurted one of the oldest of the professors between roars of laughter. Asculein was an expert in Theoretical Astrorhythmicphyrm Biology. What everyday Andalites thought of as a study of the hearts inside of a creature surviving in deep space. {This youth? This female-child has been enrolled at this university?}

One of the university's officials, slowly nodded his eye stalks, confirming the ludicrous event. They didn't even bother discussing the matter behind closed doors, the barely two year old female standing at the side of the official. Her eyes were focused down at the ground, as if trying to make herself even more invisible, while at the same time enabling herself to not believe that the comments were aimed at her. Ever since she had arrived, she had not been directly spoken to, save for a couple of 'yes-no' questions, the more complete answers given by her brother on the way. And finally she would be able to answer her first direct question.

{And what do you want to study in?} asked the old professor. He spoke to her as if she were a just-born child. Immediately she looked up.

{I am very much interested in Plintconarhythmic Physics.} And after a second thought, she added,{ Applied.}

Some of the professors came in to the main complex, and saw the conversation. A few laughed, gently because they didn't realize that she was serious. Asculein looked like his face had hit a wall.

{Excuse me?} His tone became darker. {Most, if not all, of our females in this university specialize in sub-particle fusion. And that is where you shall be placed. If you are actually a child-genius.}

Before she had been accepted into the University, she hardly knew what it meant to be a genius. To be a genius seemed to be some sort of dirty joke amongst the people around her. Save for her family.

Her childhood had at first consisted of the pain of her father's death because of the war. There was no body brought home to their familial lands, and she watched her mother fall to her knees as all strength left her. For years after that, her mother did not have the strength to continue her career as an _Estreen._ There had been no closer during the funeral, the ritual empty, the pyre empty.

Home changed drastically after that. Ajaht came home immidiately from the exhibition to take over as the head of the family, and that was when she finally got to know her brother. To relive the pain, as well as keep his very young sister busy, he taught her the art of tail fighting. Before she had been intended to take up the mother-daughter business: Estreen Dancing.

She was a female afterall, and that was the ideal future. Normally the older brother would have gone on ifnoring her, but he quickly became attached to her because of her eagerness and quick learning. He taught her math, science, anything; and she took it all in when he was too tired out from teaching her tail fighting. Everything became clearer to the small family when it came tim efor her lessons. Their tutor left after just two days of lessons. Before Ajaht had stuck some tail to him, the tutor was angrily shaking his eye stalks, calling the the female youth impertinent.

A similar pattern began to appear when she entered school. But it all didn't matter to Estrid: she took to science like it was a dance, as she had done with tail fighting. It was all a dance to her, spiralling and swirling into patterns, things connecting and interconnecting. It gave her the joy that mother nor brother had felt for a very long time. They pushed her, protected her.

And then it spiraled out of the hands and tails of her faimly: Estrid had finally reached the top. And she was only three years old. The young female andalite was finally tested and accepted into the University. What else could they do?

She stepped deeper into the bustling complex, following the professor to where the the classes were held. The temporary awe took over her as she watched students, years older than her, go about their careers and research. Few eyed her. Her skin soon began to crawl, purple fur prickling at his words. Sub particle fusion?

The young Andalite spun her stalk eyes towards the entrance, and saw her brother standing alone as he watched her leave.

{Be good Estrid,} he said, a hint of warning in his voice. Then his tale raised high, blade flicking in the air. {But give them some tail if they decide to push you around,} he added privately.

* * *

**AN:** I have another sketch on Estrid finished, and another one in the works (though I have a few others started as well on other characters). The more I work with her, the more interesting she gets! It's really weird, because I hate her. A lot.

I wanted to give Asculein an important sounding science, but in the end make it a useless one over all.


	8. Starry Eyed

**Starry Eyed***

Characters: Arbron, Sofor, Elfangor

The sky port bustled with warriors, holograms carrying thought speak tags for which transport was going where. The atmosphere levels kept the temperature and oxygen levels steady. Up here the sky was a dark crimson to purple, stars blinking unobstructed, while clouds floated miles below. Arisths dotted the place, at the side of their mentors, trainers assigned to them from their schools.

Up in orbit were the three newly built ship. One of them was the _StarSword_. Elfangor faced all four of his eyes upwards, squinting, hoping to see something of the space craft. It was his first deep space mission, and already he was dreaming up honors and awards: The Shah-War-Prince Elfangor.

{Elfangor! Elfangor!} snapped his mentor.

He shoved the newly made Aristh forward with the flat of his blade. All the young andalite males were lined up as all the other warriors were boarding. While Elfangor was given the basics of tactics, tail fighting, and astronomy. , he was still a far cry from being a fully trained warrior. A fully trained one would be taking over and completing the young Aristh's training—and if he was lucky, he would get a Prince!

One by one, Arisths stepped out in singles or in pairs up to the transports, all filled with both seasoned warriors and their new teachers. Elfangor recited the serial number to his own transport over and over in his mind as he waited. The small, oval shaped ship landed in front of the rough textured floor. Warriors first gathered their belongings, and boarded, while Elfangor nervously waited.

Moments later, after a brief pause, a figure stepped out. The fully grown andalite was of average height, battle scars showing through his deep blue fur. Despite his age, he carried his tail high. However, it took everything in the aristh's meager training to keep his face blank—his new teacher had quite a large scar running down beside one of his lantern green eyes.

{Sofor, just Sofor,} said the andalite warrior. {I am not giving you my full name and dealing with that kiss ass dung that most arisths do when they first arrive.}

Elfangor took a step back, not knowing how to respond. He was alarmed at the introduction, as well as the fact that the old warrior had made no gesture to begin the customary ritual.

{Get in! What are you waiting for?} snapped the old warrior, waving him in with his tail. Then he chuckled, and Elfangor found that he was even more caught off guard with this andalite. Was he mad?

The stunned aristh shook his stalk eyes, and moved in, belongings in arm: though it wasn't all that much. He came into the old transport to stand at the side of his new teacher. The floor rumbled under hoof as it began to warm up and prepare for lift off. The curved edges of the ship glowed, and around the aristh chatted fully grown warriors. The computers blinked and came alive, following the coordinates it was given: to the docked _StarSword_.

{All right my little aristh, we will begin your training as soon as we get to the docking station. I am too impatient to wait for my other student. Understood? Um...} The old warrior paused for a moment—

{Elfangor,} supplied the aristh.

{Ahh. Yes, of course.} Sofor looked at the young aristh as if for the first time. {My aren't you a big one.}

Elfangor felt his ears heat and his eye stalks widen in embarrassment. It was true that he was a bit tall for his age, but it didn't mean that he liked hearing it all the time. He was still awkward on his hooves, and his tail on occasion got him into trouble. Getting into military gave him hopes and dreams that it would all change.

Sofor waved his fingers in the air. {That means my second student is called Arbron.}

They continued on the transport in silence, leaving Elfangor to listen in to snippets of conversation from the warriors. Catching missions all over the Galaxy, on planets Elfangor had only seen in holos. He listened, fascinated. His eye stalks, meanwhile, moved to look out of the new transparent window, his home now laying below him. The space dock came into view, a flat, curved crescent, and in the curved space, the excited aristh knew, was the _StarSword_.

Next to him, it appeared, the Prince had fallen asleep. One of his eye stalks remained open. Elfangor eyed him wearily—was he snoring?

After about a half hour, the transport was married to the ship, and people began to shift their weight as they prepared to leave. Sofor woke with a start, pawing the ground with his left hoof, restless. {Come on young aristh,} he said as he forced him to the front of the crowd. Elfangor struggled with his things.

The doorway and tunnel was low, so the aristh had to lower his stalks a bit. Behind him he heard curses and complaints from the people behind him. Sofor walked silently as they moved, and finally the space opened up to the main body of the dock.

This time, his teacher took the lead, while Elfangor gaped at everything around him. The floor moved from the rough texture to a grassy one. It was a hardy grass, he found as they walked. The dock curved subtly as they followed along the outer edge. Warriors bustled, moving in all directions, prideful, swaggering, powerful. There were floors along the side of the crescent held temporary quarters and supplies for the great ships that docked. The ceiling was opaque, glowing with bright light.

{I will take you to your quarters and allow you to settle before we begin. Do you understand?}

{Yes sir,} aristh replied obediently.

* * *

Sofor left to meet his second aristh two full days later. Elfangor took it as a well needed break, muscles around his body sore enough to make it hard to walk—muscles he didn't realize that he had. All the while he kept sneaking glances at the Prince's scar on his face. It made the lessons even harder to get through.

Finally he would be able to explore the space dock. He walked along the outer cure, counting the moons of his home world—minutes after old Sofor was gone. A part of him was worried that the old prince had a sixth sense for when he was slacking, and it made him feel paranoid as he moved about.

Slowly, he worked his way towards the inner curve. Finally he would be able to see the _StarSword_. Elfangor would finally be about to see the Done ship up close. Slowly, as he trotted, he was able to identify the famous heroes that would now be a part of his everyday life—he would make himself known. Somehow. Without making a fool of himself. They, of course, took no notice of the lowly aristh, but being in their pretense was enough for him.

Elfangor came around the corner—and almost forgot to breath. Outside, floating like some nature-spirit of ancient myth, the _StarSword_ gleamed. The dome ship hit the distant sun light, and passed it, he was able to look in and see the grasses along the surface of the dome. The stream! The familiar plants! Its slender, yet curvacious body below it was held with the giant three main engines at the bottom. She was beautiful—a proud new home!

{Computer, show me the schematic: Dome ship _StarSword_.}

An aristh stood a few feet away from him. Elfangor could tell because of how he carried himself, untrained and clumsy like he was. The other aristh was of average height (shorter than Elfangor) and his fur a dark blue. The youth, like him, was gaping out at the _StarSword_, love sick. His main eyes looked down at the computer below his fingers.

Elfangor took a step forward, eying him. {Are you Arbron?}

The other andalite youth didn't even bother to look at the taller person. {And you're Big Blue, right?} Arbron's eye stalks turned sideways as they eyed him. {Elfangor.} Before "Big Blue" could retort anything about the nickname his peer had called him, Arbron continued speaking, {Here. You have _got_ to look at this.}

Elfangor swallowed his pride, and joined the strange aristh. He looked down at the 3-dimensional image below him, then back up at the ship. {Whoa.}

{I know. It is amazing.} Arbron began enlarging parts of the image. {See here? Those large pods below the Done? That's the bay—that is where all the ships are kept. Breeyar's squadron is going to be aboard.}

{Breeyar?} gasped Elfangor.

{Yeah!} went on the other aristh excitedly.{ He was the top drift ball player in the southern hemisphere, and became captain of the best team. He quit for the war effort. Imagine that?}

Drift ball was not what Elfangor had been thinking. But suddenly the young full warrior's heroic tales made sense.

{And Captain Nescord? They knew each other before the war happened. Sort of like drinking buddies. They never became close until they joined, they became _shorms _after. An inseparable, undefeated pair!}

Elfangor raised a hand, stopping Arbron in mid thought. {That is just mere gossip, warriors do not gossip. Aristh should not speak about their elders in that way.} It suddenly dawned on the taller aristh that he sounded almost like his father.

Arbron rolled his eye stalks. {Got a serious one here,} he muttered. He shook his head, and pointed below the four pods. {Here? Those are the massive conduits—they get energy all over the ship.}

{Why are they exposed like that?} Elfangor looked troubled. {Couldn't the yeerks attack there?}

{They would _never _get that close. No. They have to be that way so they can keep cool—or the ship will explode.}

That wasn't a very good image to Elfangor. But the little aristh was very informative. The rest of the shaft were quarters, where all of the warriors stayed—"Where we'll be staying," Arbron had pointed out eagerly. They would be surrounded by Gods. And at the very end, near the engines, was where the captain's helm was contained. Where the ship was controlled. It was very unusual for dome ships, normally the hangers were kept at the engine side, while the orbs below the dome would have been the helm.

The whole time Arbron was explaining the ship, Elfangor was still fixated on images of the ship exploding.

{And Sofor,} said the shorter aristh, {there are rumors that he was _there.}_

Elfangor didn't get it. {Where?}

{You know... The disaster on the Hork-Bajir home world.} The taller aristh stopped breathing, his main eyes widening, but Arbron wouldn't stop jabbering. He lowered his voice. {He might be a convict. That scar I heard he got when he was jailed, took down five other andalite warriors.}

Sofor stopped behind the two andalite youths, and Elfangor hoped that Arbron had been speaking to him privately. The bigger aristh felt like he was going to faint, and suddenly felt like calling home. Sofor squinted his main eyes at the two cadets as they stood attention. He clapped his hands together, making the youths feel very unpleasant.

{Now shall we start training once more?}

Suddenly the old warrior began to laugh, his head thrown backwards. The laughter echoed all around the space dock, sending shivers down Elfangor's spine. As Sofor clopped along ahead of them, he grinned with his main eyes. Oh yes, he had heard the tail end of the arisths' conversation, and he decided he was going to have fun on this next deployment.

* * *

**AN:**

**Thanks for your** insightful reviews, Green Armadillo-ette, Carolin942, and HotPinkAliKat! I enjoy reading them! ^_^

Geez, I really hate replacing the thought speak brackets. Very tedious!

I think the next time I update, I will do some from the end of the war (since I already have so many before and during the Animorphs story arc.)


	9. Odysseus

**Odysseus *****

Characters: Alloran

It was night when the ship finally lifted off into space, and I was looking off into the window. Completely alone. When I boarded, I was forced to enter my human morph one last time—I had told myself five years ago that it would be the last and now there I was once more with two awkward legs.

You might wonder why I stayed on Earth for so long after the war and not return to my homeworld. There were many war trials, and because I was host to a parasite of so high a rank, I was a key eyewitness to many of them. Human jurors watched fascinated, and even repulsed as they listened. I told myself that I wanted to return to my home as soon as possible. But I hesitated, something within me pulling me back. It had been so long.

I finally sent a transmission to my wife, with the words of the ritual of home coming—I could barely remember them. There I waited nervously, eager and terrified like some inexperienced suitor. I expected nothing. I expected her to banish me. I expected...

She did reply. Jahar. The message was short, emotionless. The welcoming ritual. I stood in my temporary quarters in a place called Washington DC playing the message over and over. What did her face say? I looked in her eyes, searching for some kind of clue. Nothing. But the time had finally come: and I booked tickets to a private flight to the homeworld.

As I walked with others that appeared human towards the main terminal, hearded like nonsentient hooved animals, I could see the changes of human life all around me. The technology on Earth had already become more advanced, even without the aid of the Andailite people. Just within the last two years.

They had something called a retina scan, scanning my eye, revailing who exactly I was: Alloran-Semitur-Corass. I strongly distrusted the thing, wondering how much damage it was going to do to me. I could see a blue light for three seconds afterwards.

The human female on the right side looked at the computer screen as she viewed my profile, and gave me a smile. I nodded and went through the gate leading to the ship, wondering what type of smile it was. Humans had many types of them, but I decided that it was an awkward smile. She looked familiar. A probable host that worked under Esplin's short reign as Visser One.

I was his host for many long years.

Just as I was about to walk to the metal detector, she called. "Hey!" she said loudly, as if waking up from a dream. Before turning my head to look at the human, one of my eyestalks turned to face her. I looked at her straight in the eyes with my own main ones. She seemed to be searching for something. I made an inaudible snort, smiling in spite of myself.

"No, I am no longer the host to Visser One. I am myself," I said and moved on through the gate. Even after a few years, I still found that liberating: _I am myself_.

It was the third flight to the Andalite home world. The first, and even the second launches were reported over human television networks and through their computer nets. My people reported the first launch through the civilian nets. The third was the soonest and most unnoticed out of the first early flights of human Z-space travel. I did not want to be televised because now-a-days I wished for a private and quiet life.

From the outside, I was surprised of how fluid the ship looked. And as always, like with most human aircraft, it was shaped like a bird of sorts. From what I had heard from Andalite rumors, it was supposed to look somewhat crude. The interior might have been what they meant. Inside, one of the attendants looked at the board and told me to stay in human morph until they were out of orbit so I was forced to be seated. I would be allowed to roam the isles andback afterwards. They are ill-equipped for Andalites.

It was cramped, and I found some comfort in looking through the window. It made me all the more aware of my freedom. As the ship finally launched into the air, I watched the light blue sky move through colors like reds, oranges, then to violet and lastly the blackness of space. It would be another twenty minutes before the ship would translate into Z-space. The first would be a single short jump, before finally heading out of the Sol system and on to my home.

Finally, I saw a sign at the front of the ship blinking, indicating that we were out of orbit and on our way to my home. I unbelted myself from the seat, and made my way to the back where the human waste facilitites were and demorphed. I suspected that many humans aboard would find the experience of watching someone change forms would be 'disgusting'.

It was a cramped space, but somehow I managed, opening the door while I was half demorphed. My tail finished forming, and I landed comfortably on all four hooves before exiting and moving towards the back where the ship was completely open. I appeared to be the only Andalite for the moment.

Stepping gingerly into the small, cramped cabin, I turned my attention to one of the circular windows once more, finding a very familiar sight. Curiousity piqued, I moved closer to that particular window, my head tilted towards the side—a very human gesture. The ship skirted lazily around one of it's largest planets; a gas giant with a rather attractive set of rings that glittered against the lights of the ship. Long buried memories slowly shivered, rippling in my mind as recongnition took over.

A beautiful, streamlined ship appeared out of the darkness, floating effortlessly towards the craft I stood in. The ship sifted through the dust of the rings as it moved closer and closer. It was silver, its three main engines glowing seductively, its tail held high with dignity. And along the side said one word; one name: _Jahar_.

A shiver shot through my spine; I blinked before straining my main eyes— and it was suddenly gone. The ship, my ship—was gone.

* * *

**AN:**

**Long Time No See!** Hey guys, I'm totally not dead! Just horrendously busy. I still have one that I haven't typed, and I think I shall put it up sometime this week! ^_^ This drabble is an edited and extended version of something I wrote a while back-One of my rare first person POVs. I'll be adding more and more of this one as I go along, in between all of the other drabbles, so keep an eye open for more Alloran POVs. Alloran's one of my favorites ('cause he's just that poor guy that happens to always be at the wrong place at the wrong time, with or without his own doing...), so he definitely has to be in this! ^_^

**As Always... **Thank you so much for your reviews! I love getting them and reading them so much!


	10. Casablanca Memories

**Casablanca Memories*****

Characters: Estrid, Aximili

Estrid pawed the ground softly with her front hoof; and the again. She breathed in slowly, turning her blade flat and did a test swing. She moved a back hoof a step backwards; lowered her tail. _FWAP._ In one swift movement, she curved her tail over her head and leaped gracefully in the air. Landed, her tail low to the ground, her small blade pointed at a small tree: her intended target.

Estrid sighed: her morning exercises were complete. She withdrew her tail.

The fields around her were familiar, though it had been quite a few years since she had been around them: they were her ancestral grounds. The Andalite female had been arrested and jailed, wrongfully, in her opinion. Not that it mattered. The charges were long: all dealing with that fateful mission to Earth. She shook her head—those times were long gone.

However she had learned much. Things she would never quite admit to herself, not even to this day.

The lands were empty for the moment, Ajhat and mother would be home as soon as they could. Mother had her classes at the capital; Ajhat on a transport from Earth, serving the tail fighting community well. She didn't mind the quiet after all that had happened.

Somehow, while she was incarcerated, someone had fought to get her out; she didn't know who in the dark sun it was. When she got home from the mission, she _had_ no friends in high places, and she was sent behind electro-walls, kept there even at the end of the war. Even after the dome ship _Elfangor_. Hypocrisy. Her life had suddenly become more that her love of knowledge, and the hero-of-the-day. A conspiracy that the Electorate took no responsibility for.

Didn't matter: she was one andalite, a female. One genius out of many that they could pick up and throw out. Even though she knew how to get her way, learning how to use her gender, she found that people would be one thing she could not conquer—she was manipulated in the end, and she found out how truly naive she really was.

So who would save her life like that? What remained of her family didn't have the power, or the rank to be able to read the confidential files. The power to get her out. Unless...

Estrid came to the scoop, and of course found it empty. She found the cool space familiar; safe. The computer came on at her command, and greeted her. _Would you like to order Starbucks today?_ it asked coolly. The Andalite female blinked: things had indeed changed at home since her freedom.

Before she was tempted to order jelly beans, she keyed in the latest electorate cases, her popping up amongst many. Hers was a mere speck: nothing of consequence because she was a nobody. A few of the politicians had come out of the war without blades she noted. She opened her case for a detailed account, but found the date she was tried, arrested, and then freed. Nothing else. Nothing on who had even brought it up and exonerated her.

She brought up another screen. {Keyword, Aximili-Esaggarouth-Isthill.} Estrid hesitated for a few moments, the ordered some jelly beans.

Her eyes bulged out of their sockets as the computer scrolled off everything about him. {Marooned on Earth, rescued by Animorphs. Fought alongside them between Earth years 1996-2001. Promoted to Warrior. Liaison between Human world and Andalite world. Distributed Escafil Devices. Liaison between Yeerk and Andalite—}

{Stop!} she snapped. She sighed. {Computer, are there any listings of challenges to the Electorate case decisions?}

{Four listings.}

{Can you list them?} she asked excitedly.

{Escafil distributions backed by Alloran-Semitur-Corass. The rest of the information requires code blue clearance.}

{Damn,} she said, using a human expletive.

Well, it would be the perfect time to test her rusty math and science skills. And get herself arrested again. The system, though the highest in Andalite technology, was a joke to her quick, searching fingers. She was soon in, and the rest of the information opened in from of her like a human codex. The computer recited everything, not aware at all of the laws she had broken.

{Escafil distribution backed by Alloran-Semitur-Corass. War crimes exonerated of Alloran-Semitur-Corass as Hork-Bajir home world. Seerow's Kindness Law 11212.2 exonerated of Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul. Back ops code 0, exonerated Gonrod-Isfall-Sonilli and Estrid-Corill-Darrath.}

Even though it had only been a hunch, Estrid started at the transparent screen dumbly. A few days out of the year while she had been jailed, she had wondered if that silly Aristh that broke her hearts had remembered her. He very obviously had. And Estrid hated charity more than anything.

{Computer, where is _Prince_ Aximili located?} she asked.

{Last appearance: Earth, United States of America, Washington DC.}

{Good, I will wait for him there.} A give him a piece of her tail.

She "Booked tickets" to the soonest transport leaving for Earth, immediately forgetting about her family who was going to arrive soon. Estrid moved quickly out of the scoop, and out onto the field, moving at a full fun. The andalite scenery unfolded around her, the small trees, the tall glass; everything that she had missed, all forgotten because of her anger.

She arrived at the transport station in no-time, and found the port much different than she had remembered it. The structure had remained the same, but around it bustled creatures not indigenous to the planet: Humans, Leerans, Hork-Bajir and others she couldn't put a name to. Few looked at her, save for a human child, who stood dwarfed with fascination.

He reached out towards Estrid. "Mommy I want to pet!"

An older human female yanked him up into her arms. "I'm sorry," she said breathlessly, "He's in his terrible twos."

She left without another word, leaving Estrid confused as to what the "terrible twos" were. A metamorphosis? A mutation?

She shook her eye stalks and boarded one of the smaller transports, meant just for locals. She stood with five other andalites, left with her own worried thoughts—how much had everything changed? Her rage soon evaporated into something that made her wish that she had it back. How much had Aximili changed? Even though he had freed her—did that mean he still had feelings for her? Maybe what she was doing was brash, but she _had_ to see him.

The local Metropolis grew exponentially after a slow Earth hour. She was relieved to find that it had remained pretty much the same—save for the aliens that bustled around the blue or purple of andalites. She got off at the ground station, leaving her with some time to spare before going up to the sky port and onto the ship that would take her to Earth.

Her ears pricked, her tail shaking. It was an instinct that had been used so little, that she didn't know what it was. She looked around her, finding that other andalites were in the same disturbed condition—and even humans picked up on it. Everything else moved on around them as if something was wrong.

The ground shook, the sound of something colossal hitting the ground—and then another and another. It was as if the sky suddenly started to fall. Tall structures began to tumble, thunder pouring from clear golden sky. Glass breaking. Explosions that didn't make any sense. Were they under attack?

It took about two seconds afterwards for the screams to start. And then Estrid realized what the instinct was preparing her for—a predator.

Pandemonium! People ran for their lives, peoples of all races. Dust grew from the shock waves, wild animals screamed. Transports rushed out. But then Estrid realized: they were trapped by the confines of the city.

Another shockwave hit, and those that were around were thrown to the ground. The breath was knocked out of her, and all that she could breathe in was dust when she hit the ground. She struggled to stay conscience, to see, but her mind was losing it. She heard a pain cry that sent another shockwave. And laughter in her mind so loud that she no longer had a coherent thought.

She came to; and thought she was dreaming. A wave! A wave of black oozed through the rubble. She saw arms, claws, tentacles, razors wriggling in the black as it destroyed. She tried to stand, but one of her back hooves was broken; everyone else around her was dead. So this was what it was like to be at war.

One of its oozing eyes blinked; saw her. She screamed, instincts kicking into overdrive. Estrid tried to get up. She tripped, but quickly caught herself.

She could hear it heaving as it breathed.

It stopped in front of her, and she was able to form a coherent thought.

{What are you?}

After all of the destruction it had caused; it hesitated. It watched her. And after a few moments she realized: it was confused. Why?

It was a hundred yards away, its dark shadow looming over her. Then it fell, and the female andalite dropped to her knees, covering her face and bracing for the pain as it would hit her. It never did. She opened all four of her eyes.

The wave of bladed black rolled, hitting the ground. Black dust rained upwards into the sky like ash. The rest turned to an oily substance, absorbing into the ground, and as it got closer, animal shapes began to take form, the disappeared, only to be replaced by more shapes. The black rolled off the forms, the animals of all shapes deteriorating into sand. The monster grew small and smaller; she saw a hand. A blue fingered hand out of all the mass.

She fell to her knees, the pain in her hearts incomprehensible. And andalite tumbled out of the mass, thrown as if spat out through all of the destruction and debris. Estrid crawled forward when the body came to a stop. He was still breathing, his sides heaving.

Carefully, she lifted his head and placed it on top of her knees, stroking the side of his face. Dust curled out of his nose; he blinked, barely able to move much of anything else.

Estrid refused to look at his injuries, too serious for him to even still be alive. Burns, open wounds covered his sides—he was splattered everywhere. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He reached up to touch her face—kiss her. The andalite way.

{Aximili,} she whispered. Her stalk eyes searched his face. {What happened?}

{The One,} he mumbled. His eyes rolled in his head. {I happen to be his main host. He is still all around me... In me...}

{But you are dying,} she reasoned. She rain her hands down his collar bone, remembering.

{He keeps me alive. He is curious, pulls us apart, sees how we work. But I still do not die.} She watched him, horrified. {He doesn't understand still.}

He touched the side of her face. She jerked back from a jolt. His hand curved against her face, and she could see a glowing web; space-time itself, shining out around her before flickering back to reality. {He is a part of it—like the Ellimist, only more—}

She saw herself boarding the ship to Earth. Saw the humans who had called themselves the Animorphs. She saw herself coming up to Aximili and slapping with the flat of her blade. Saw how stunned he looked, and saw Marco elbowing him as he said something about ex girlfriends.

Saw them together as humans by candle light. Hands touching. A week later, on the beach. Another, kissing with human mouths, fumbling, clumsy, wholly unandalite. Slowly demorphing, kissing the andalite way.

Saw him being sent on exploratory missions. She went home. Saw her brother and mother. Estrid saw herself as a professor at the University. Aximili on leave. Another promotion—

_{STOP_!} she screamed. She couldn't bare it anymore, couldn't bear to see something that was not going to happen.

{But he can see what _can_ happen, how things change if he moves a piece.}

Black spots began to form on the ground, crawling slowly towards them.

{He wants to see everything before he moves!} he said deliriously. He ran his fingers down the sides of her face, almost fascinated by the touch. Had he even married? Mated? No. He was of two different worlds. A male ahead of his time. Though he would be strange: unwanted by females. An equivalent of a vecol. {I must tell Prince Jake!}

She saw the monster, the One growing and lifting out of the ground. Estrid pulled Aximili's injured body closer to her with weak arms. Scrabbled to keep him longer. But he was being pulled from her nonetheless.

{Help me! Kill me!} he screamed.

{Don't leave me!} she cried.

She could feel the One now. Exploring her mind, felt its power, its emptiness. It knew nothing of sentience, and had watched them interact. Black exploded from Aximili's sides, tearing him apart. His screams. A different mind took control of his head, seething, laughing with the Prince's voice. Black dust fell from the sky, and the andalite was whole once more, though the original mind gone, or suppressed.

It was quiet when the creature left, and Estrid realized she was the only one that had remained alive. There she knelt, until her front hooves were sucked into her body. Her stalk eyes went dark, her fur shed, revealing light skin, and five fingered hands.

Humans could cry and scream with rage with voice boxes.

* * *

**AN:**

**Thanks for your reviews, **HotPinkCoffee and Sarah1281! I enjoyed them immensely! ^_^

**And as promised**, another drabble! :3


	11. Rebirth

**AN: This is a **fan character that I created sometime back for a fanfiction on my old account. I decided to put it up because... Well, Temeran _is_ an Andalite. I promise you, he's not a Mary Sue (but then authors always think that with their characters, lol.) The ff was called _The Offworlder Chronicles_, but I decided to move it here. Give it a shot! The next drabble after this one will prolly be about him as well. ^_^

As always thank you so much for your reviews- they totally make my day when I read them! :3

* * *

**Rebirth***

Characters: Temeran

It was dark; groggy, moans of pain could be heard in every direction, the smell of flesh and soil intermixed as enemy ships headed off above the clouds, the red of their tail lights glowing. Temeran-Amanthian-Gorash stood on the hill watching them leave, his shredder long since burned out. He pointed it to the sky as if hoping; taking aim, but there was nothing left. He looked back down at it; how useless, how weak and pathetic it looked.

{Sir… Sir,} fluttered a voice. He looked up, another living voice. Temeran saw him down the gray, burned slope, the young warrior on his side, chest to the ground as he reached up for him. There was no help, no medics. Dracon marked down the youth's flank, fluid oozing down the wounds, gleaming with infection.

{Sir, help me…}

Temeran didn't give him a second glance, traveling passed the fallen warrior. His tail would have had to been amputated at the very least, and he would have wanted to die anyway. The mid-section of the tail was just a bunch embers glowing in the darkening sky. The old warrior's hooves kicked up dried dust, smoking down the hill as he went, as he ignored the pleas for help.

_There's nothing I can do…_

The sun was setting through the thick laden atmosphere, tinting everything blue-and-gray. It was getting cold—and quickly, the bodies preserved over a layer of ice and frost that had quickly formed. It was all happening quickly as the sun fell. He would be that way soon, but he would keep moving for the hell of it. If he had lain down and waited for death, he'd begin thinking. Moving would make him think about the aching of the strings of his freezing muscles; his breathing.

The planet was barren save for the rolling hills like waves, and the streaks of ice that ran throughout the planet like veins of some living, frozen creature. It was an outpost, standing in the middle, between Yeerk and Andalite lines. The Andalite lines drew back and his warriors stayed behind to take down whatever was left. Neither side found anything particularly special about this moon, let alone the planet that it swung around. It was just important _because _it was in the way

The molten blue planet gorged on the right side of the sky, and there were three other moons hidden around the hemisphere. He didn't bother looking back to count, knowing that he would see the congealed blood crystallize, eyes glazing over with ice, and the fur prickling of his fallen warriors. Stars spanned the skies. At least the clouds had bothered to clear; he never thought he would see them again. The death ritual had been done just that morning; he knew it was lost. This one piece of him knowing that he would never see his wife and children again.

The landscape began to flatten, save for the webbing of ice that he was coming up on. His hearts began to work in the thinning air, as the moon changed its axis around the planet. It was slow, but his body showed every sign of it changing. His fur was frozen, jagged.

_It is beautiful_, he thought.

The planet glided through the gas field, glowing green and violet. It shimmered and moved, blinding his green eyes momentarily, unused to the sudden light. The pain in his hearts seared by this point, the oxygen draining faster and faster. But more than likely he would die of radiation and for some reason the idea at that point made him giddy. He _wanted_ those lights.

_This is what dying should be like,_ he thought.

He stumbled as he tried to move closer to it, alone and calling for death in illuminating lights, gas particles by the minute light. His brain began to slow from oxygen starvation; he was euphoric, giddy as he tried to reach. He fell. The ground was cold, and Temeran was numbed; it didn't matter. The old warrior fell, moaning in futility, and called for his wife...

The ground began to shake.

A tremor at first; it woke him up. He could hear the fractures beginning in the ground; and—he could breathe! He tried to stand, suddenly alert, but the ground wouldn't let him, shaking too violently at that point, startling the ice skin of the moon. All around him! Frustrated, he whipped his tail—he wanted to live! The fractures surrounded him, refusing to let him up.

It began to crack, weakening the ground. Desperately Temeran began to crawl, digging his tail into the ice with each drag, trying to find stable ground. It was impossible!

The ground exploded!

Tentacles seared the air, as his body was thrown skyward from the explosion. They glowed, ethereal almost, but that was not possible—he could feel the wind around him, as they whipped the air, searching.

{Yaaaaaahhhhh!} he bellowed.

A number of them wrapped around his middle, his momentum increased as he fell—they were taking him! He whipped his tail violently, trying to cut himself away. It was hard, the tentacles thick with muscle. He worked harder and faster—but it was no use! Each time he cut one away, more wrapped around him, yanking him faster and faster towards the ground. It wrenched him to the earth, the refrozen ice shattered as he was dragged through.

He was falling!

He was falling through the water, the ice frigidness of it shocking him. Temeran was too shocked to scream from it, like tiny needles pressing all around him. His eye stalks closed, but it didn't matter. There was darkness all around him! The creature that pulled him further and further under was boiling hot compared to the liquid that threatened to freeze him. The air! There was no air! Fear pumped it out of his organs, but he was going to die anyway from some unknown predator.

As he was pulled, the water turned blue, light tropical blue. And suddenly it was warm. He could watch it move, the water tingling all around him. It was calmer—where was the light coming from?

The grip of the animal had tightened around him, unwilling to let his prey go. Had he not felt trapped, the water would have proved comforting. His lungs burned, and he decided that he didn't want to die by being eaten. He decided to breathe in.

Drowning was not a nice way to go.

Being in something as fluid and gentle as water, and suddenly realizing that it wasn't so. That it would drain in itself into every orifice of your body, and suck the life out of you, as you watched the precious air bubbling, fizzling to the top.

Temeran struggled for his life, but he felt his mind darkening, as pain shot up through his nostrils, bringing up white instead. As he floated off, he could no longer feel the monster grasping at him, but he could feel the breeze of water flowing around him...

Consciousness gathered around his mind, a numbness all around his body and a squeezing at his joints. Was this what dying was like? A constant fading in and out until you were finally gone? He shifted, his back rubbing against something rough, like chiseled granite. Something lit up in his hearts, something like a surprise, a gift.

He snapped open all four eyes, gazing up at only white at first as they struggled to get used to the light. He blinked a few times, realizing that he was in some sort of cave, the walls made of chalk, stalactites hanging from the ceiling above. It was bright, and that was hard to believe at first—wasn't he technically under water? Where was the light coming from. And more so—

Why wasn't he dead?

He took a step forward to explore his surroundings even further. He grunted.

{Of all the—} he muttered. Something pulled him back, the pressures at his joints holding him. He was a prisoner.

He nearly died twice, both from lack of air, only to be held hostage by unknown beings. It could be the Yeerk forces. He was sure that they didn't even know of this, he reasoned—even the most advanced scans didn't show such caverns as this one on his ships. The Yeerks had more primitive technology. There was no way they knew...

{Do not fear dear creature.}

He jerked in his bindings, his eyestalks turning towards the figure. He hadn't known that there was another being in the room—the thing had totally snuck up on him!

An ethereal creature moved into his line of vision, mouth pointed into a muzzle. Eyes swirling with ice, the neck long and curved. The elbows of the arms were sharp, hands three fingered, and where the thumb should have been was a talon. It was three-legged held up by paws, and a tail that hopped and dug into the ground as he moved for extra balance.

It looked up at him sideways, hands up in peace. {Do not fear,} it said again. It slowly put its hand on a particular lump on the uneven wall, and pulled it down—it was a lever! The pressures on him ceased, and he moved forward.

{Then why do you hold me captive?} Temeran grated. He moved his wrists around, his tail, easing any stiffness that had been left. The creature watched, amazed.

{We were afraid that you would panic,} he answered, taking a step forward. {You are such a wonderful creature—you will suffice wonderfully.}

All four eyes were on him. There was a strange edge, and Temeran didn't like it.

{What?}

The ethereal hesitated, then motioned him to come towards him. The worn warrior followed him, tail cocked. And sure enough the white walls hid an unseen corner, the perfect hiding place for an entrance to a possibly primitive race without shielding. There was a staircase that curved downward so that he could see the bottom of them.

The blue of the cavern reflected the ocean, making the ice glimmer as they moved along downwards. Cautiously he followed—what else could he do?

The creature began to talk, and unwillingly he listened as he tried to get over the strange feeling that he had.

{We are ethereal beings and can only survive in this atmosphere—under surface. We tried above and could not move with strength and ease and even tried space travel—to no avail. We are a frail race.} The creature seemed to say the last part with irritation. _An explorer-type race_, Temeran supposed.

The corner rounded, and Temeran's eyes widened.

{But you see, we are not a primitive race.}

A city unfolded out before them, glowing and throbbing with life. There were more of these creatures all around the place. Domes and sky scrapers made out of just light and glass it seemed, right into a ground that couldn't be seen at the height that they stood. The etherial creatures did not appear to be a weak species.

{What are you?} he asked. {Who are you?}

The creature seemed to smile. {We are the Golflin. And my name is Oedma. Your observer, mentor and guide.}

Temeran scoffed. {Mentor?} He couldn't help but laugh. {What is there left for me to learn? I am probably three times your age!}

Oedma moved on. {We shall see, Andalite}

Temeran felt a chill run down his spine at the sound of his people's name—how had he known? He wasn't liking this whole field trip bit-by-bit. _But_, he reasoned with himself, _the ultimate goal is to get home_. Maybe to appease the little monster meant a way out of the place.

However, his wife would have been impressed with the civilization, and maybe he could get a hold of a few visual holos about them as a nice gift for her—and possibly gain his retirement. Maybe forget about the war…

Wishful thinking.

He was valuable to the military and would most likely be tossed back in with a new command, and he would soon carry new scars from the war. Ones that he would never show his wife. But wishful thinking was what helped him through the hard times. It didn't hurt to think about retirement.

{Where are we going?} he asked, trying to ignore the Andalite comment. It bothered him—and words rarely bothered him.

{To get you educated,} replied the Golflin. They were beginning to go into the city. The stairs stopped abruptly, a bridge of light connecting to the ledge after a moment. Temeran was beginning to tire of the show that this creature seemed to be putting on, and wanted to know what it seemed to be eluding to.

Cautiously, after a few moments hesitation, he stepped on what easily felt like solid ground. The bridge moved them down at a slant, as they walked across. The warrior couldn't help but feel in awe of the city, cities on his home world long ago extinct because of their impracticality. As they got closer to the structures, he realized that he could see right through them, and see the Golflin moving about with their daily life. They seemed to be a pretty harmless race, but a part of him kept his tail on guard.

{We are almost there Andalite friend,} said Oedma. His voice concealed any form on emotion.

The bridge finally connected with one of the structures and into one of the rooms. Temeran could not see into this one. His tour guide slowed to a stop, and looked right at him.

{Do you trust me?} he asked.

Temeran felt a shiver go down his spine. Nonetheless Oedma seemed to read the reaction and moved forward to a door that slid open to allow them through into the building.

{Very well, you will learn,} Oedma sighed calmly. Temeran had no choice but to follow.


End file.
